


pushing through

by marmolita



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha Gladiolus Amicitia, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Porn With Plot, The Astrals are dicks, secret omega noctis, see author notes for warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:29:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolita/pseuds/marmolita
Summary: Noctis's eyes widen in shock.  "I'm-- I'm taking my suppressants!  I told you that already.""Yeah, well I guess they don't count when there's an Astral involved."





	pushing through

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been in my head for ages and I finally managed to write it in time for gladnoct week free day! Okay well this fic is going up to AO3 a couple days early because I'll be out of town on the actual day, but still. The omegaverse is a little non-traditional -- I think it's self-evident from the fic but if you have questions feel free to ask.
> 
> WARNINGS: This contains description of Noctis's first heat at age 16 -- no sex, but some moderate description of masturbation. All the actual sex is with him as an adult and 100% consensual.

Lestallum is a nice town, but it would be nicer if Noctis hadn't immediately started having headaches as soon as they arrived -- worse, headaches with _visions_. It seems like the Archaean is trying to tell him something, but he can't figure out what that might be, or why it has to hurt so much to hear it. The pain is like a fire burning through his skull and trickling out into the rest of his body, and even though it fades away quickly, it leaves him feeling fuzzy-headed and unbalanced.

He's still a little off-kilter from a particularly bad one as they stop by the Leville to see Iris and Talcott. "Noct, are you feeling alright?" Ignis asks. "It's been a while since your last headache, but you don't look very well."

"I dunno," Noctis replies. It's starting to feel like there's something else wrong with him beyond the headaches, but he can't quite place it. "Maybe I'm getting sick or something." He frowns, considering. He hasn't been sneezing and he doesn't feel congested, and his throat is fine. He's been a little warm, but the climate in Lestallum is practically tropical -- everyone is roasting. The Leville is air conditioned though, so Noctis is just starting to get more comfortable when he's hit with another headache.

"Not again," he groans, doubling over with the pain. Iris gets to him first this time, asking what's wrong, but Gladio holds her back.

"He'll be fine," Gladio says. "Don't worry." Maybe he's saying it for Iris's sake, but _Noctis_ is starting to worry. He leans into the hand Gladio puts on his shoulder as the pain starts to fade; the contact is more comforting than it ought to be. He's noticed Gladio looking at him with concern the past few days, and Gladio's commented on more than one occasion that these headaches are not normal. To be honest, though he appreciates it at the moment, in general it's kind of annoying. It's one thing to know that Gladio's his shield, but it's another to have him hovering around like Noctis is going to keel over any second.

When he recovers enough to be back on his feet, they head out toward the outlook to get a look at the Disc of Cauthess that's been plaguing his visions. Ignis and Prompto walk a bit ahead, but Gladio hangs back with Noctis, glancing at him suspiciously every few seconds. "Out with it," Noctis says. "You got something to say, just say it."

Gladio looks at him sideways. "You taking your suppressants?" he asks finally, and Noctis's head jerks up.

"What kind of a question is that?" Noctis hisses, keeping his voice low. "Of course I am. You think I'd forget now after all these years?"

Gladio raises his hands in surrender. "Not accusing you of anything. You're just acting like . . . I dunno. Maybe it's just stress."

"I'm fine, Gladio. It's just some headaches. And I'm taking my goddamned suppressants." Noctis's attempt to glare at Gladio is ruined by his head throbbing again and making him wince, but Gladio backs off.

***

Noctis had his first and only heat when he was sixteen years old -- years late for such a thing, and late enough that everyone had already decided that despite his smallish stature, Noctis was as much an alpha as his father. The heat came on after a morning of feeling vaguely unsettled, coalescing in a hot rush in the middle of a training session. He tripped over his own feet and went down hard, suddenly dizzy and feverish, and when Gladio crouched down next to him Noctis swallowed against a sudden wave of desire like he'd never felt before.

"You okay?" Gladio asked, offering him a hand.

Noctis couldn't stop his eyes from wandering over Gladio's body, couldn't stop the way his breath hitched or the way his mouth dropped open or the sudden urge to lick his lips. "I don't know," he said. "I feel . . . strange."

Gladio frowned and pressed a hand against Noctis's forehead, and Noctis found himself leaning hard into the touch. It was a stroke of luck that they were alone together. It was a stroke of luck that Gladio was an alpha, and knew enough to recognize the signs of heat when he saw them. Later, when Noctis had come out the other side, he would appreciate that it hadn't happened somewhere more public. But at that moment his thoughts were nowhere near coherent enough to think of such things. Gladio cursed, scooped Noctis up in his arms, and carried him to his room.

His father arrived soon after, called out of a council meeting by Gladio's urgent but vague message. It was a relief to see him, as Noctis was confused and uncomfortable -- feverish and with a strange twist in his gut and an embarrassing situation in his pants -- and all Gladio would say was, "Wait for your dad to get here."

"Dad," Noctis said, shifting in his seat on the couch as Gladio bowed, "please tell me this isn't what I think it is."

"Would like me to step outside, Your Majesty?" Gladio asked.

"No, Gladiolus, I believe you should stay," Regis said, sighing as he sank onto the couch next to Noctis. "You were right to summon me."

"Is this heat?" Noctis asked urgently. "I didn't think--"

"I'm afraid so," Regis said gently. Noctis was having trouble connecting his thoughts, but that one pierced through the fog and made his gut clench. "It appears that you are an omega."

"I thought-- but I'm-- Everyone said I was an alpha. I _can't_ be an omega. I'm the _prince_."

"You're right," Regis said, and Noctis felt a cold finger of fear break through his muddled mind. Would he be disowned? Disinherited? Noctis knew his history lessons. Every firstborn omega in his ancestral line had stepped aside in favor of a younger alpha sibling. Would his father need to find another wife and have another son? But Regis continued, "We must keep this between the three of us. Noctis, the crystal has already accepted you as the King of Light. You _will_ fulfill your destiny. I don't know why the Astrals chose this . . . accident of biology, but there are drugs that can suppress heats. Nobody needs to know." He turned to Gladio and added, "Right, Gladiolus?"

Gladio cleared his throat, face lightly flushed. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"O-- Okay," Noctis said, "where do I get these drugs? Can I take them now?" It couldn't be that easy. The public school he went to hadn't spent much time on alpha and omega variants since they only appeared in the nobility in any significant numbers, but he knew enough to know that when it came time for him to produce an heir, this "accident of biology" would become very relevant. Still, in his hazy state of mind, the only thing he could latch onto was his father saying he could still inherit, and that there was something he could do that would _make this stop._

"It's not safe to take them before you've been through your first heat," Regis explained. "I'm afraid you'll have to suffer through this one, but it will be the only one. We'll tell everyone that you're sick. Gladiolus," he said, turning again to Gladio, "you are an alpha, are you not?"

"I am, Your Majesty."

"I hesitate to ask this of you, but I'm afraid my responsibilities will keep me away and I'd like to have an alpha here to . . . provide a calming presence. I will not ask you to do anything you are uncomfortable with, merely to keep watch over my son as you always do."

"I . . . can do that."

"Thank you. We are entrusting you with a great secret, young man. It is my hope that not only will you keep it, but that as Noctis's shield, you will be there to protect him in this way in the future, should the need arise."

There was a tense, unreadable expression on Gladio's face, but he answered, "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Now then," Regis said, laying a hand on Noctis's shoulder, "let's get you to bed and make sure you have everything you need."

***

Of course it's Ardyn they run into at the overlook. Of course he insists on accompanying them to the Disc, as Noctis struggles with stronger and stronger headaches. The way Ardyn looks at him makes Noctis uncomfortable deep in his gut, and he's shamefully relieved every time Gladio steps between the two of them. When it comes time to bed down for the night in the tiny caravan, Noctis eschews his usual spot between Ignis and Prompto and instead curls between Gladio and the wall, trying his best to get some rest despite the throbbing in his head that seems to have echoes all over his body.

In the morning, Noctis feels worse than ever, but he pushes on, driving after Ardyn to the Disc. It's not bad at first, just the typical hike through rocky mountains to a surprise royal tomb, but after he's taken the Blade of the Mystic into his armiger everything goes to shit. Titan wakes up, the ground crumbles, and Noctis and Gladio get separated from the others.

The moment Titan rises Noctis's body feels like it's on fire -- like the meteor itself is burning through him. He staggers, slips, and slides down the rocks as they fall down the cliffside. Gladio barely grabs him in time to stop him from falling to his death bodily hauling him up.

"Goddamn," Noctis mutters, staring up at the creature in front of him, "this is the Archaean?"

"Seems we woke the big guy up," Gladio agrees. It's then that Prompto calls down to them, and Noctis turns to see him and Ignis on a ridge high above. They agree to try to find a way down as Noctis and Gladio continue on.

It's so hot this close to the meteor, and that last headache left Noctis woozy and tingly, in a way that's almost familiar. It has to just be the meteor though, and the stress getting to him and making him snappish.

"Don't rush off on your own," Gladio says, and Noctis replies, "Don't get left behind," without thinking. He continues to snipe at Gladio as they walk, aware that he's being an asshole but too irritable to stop himself. 

"How the hell does it get this hot?" Noctis grumbles. "Feels like I'm about to combust."

Gladio eyes him sideways. "Don't be an idiot, Noct. Yeah, it's fucking hot, but that's not why _you're_ hot, is it?"

"What are you talking about? I just want this to be over."

"Noct!" Gladio grabs his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "I don't know what the hell the Archaean is doing to you, or how, but you have to have noticed by now that you're going into heat."

Noctis's eyes widen in shock. "I'm-- I'm taking my suppressants! I told you that already." But the more he thinks about it the more sense it makes. The feverish prickling under his skin, the throbbing that's no longer confined to his head -- they're things he's felt before, once, years ago, which he'd all but pushed from his memory.

"Yeah, well I guess they don't count when there's an Astral involved. I've been suspecting it for a while, but you're crossing over from the early stages to a full-blown heat."

Growling in frustration, Noctis hisses, "I don't have _time_ for this shit. I can't go into heat! Prompto and Ignis don't even know I'm an-- they don't even _know_!"

"You're right," Gladio says, and he sounds so reasonable that Noctis calms down a little. "You don't have time for it right now, but your body's gonna do what it's gonna do. So suck it up and keep going, okay?"

Noctis takes a breath and they start across a narrow ledge. Now that he's realized what's happening, he can feel it deeper in his body, coiling through his veins and settling between his legs. Of course, Titan chooses that moment to reach for him, his giant hand swiping at the rocks and making them crumble away. Noctis gives him a piece of his mind, but it's pretty useless to yell at an ancient stone god.

They make it to the other side, somehow, and struggle along another path, then another, and another. "Ugh, I'm sick of this endless walking," Noctis complains, exhausted and overheated and struggling under the aching desire that's building up past the point where he can ignore it.

"And I'm sick of your endless whining," Gladio retorts, grabbing him by the shirt. "Pull yourself together." The close contact is a contradiction of feelings, between his irritation at the whole situation, the spark of attraction at the proximity of a strong alpha, and the bare hint of calming pheromones drifting towards him. Irritation wins out, though, since Noctis has long since learned to shove the others down and lock them away inside.

"Get off my back!"

"Are you a man of royal blood or aren't you?"

A loaded question, when Gladio knows very well that being an omega is exactly what would in any other circumstance make Noctis ineligible for the throne. "Of course I am," he replies testily, shoving Gladio away. "I couldn't forget it if I tried. What about it?"

"We Amicitia are the king's sworn shields," Gladio says, as if Noctis didn't know that. "When you can’t focus, I focus for you. It’s my job, so let me do it, alright?"

"Don't know how you're supposed to focus for me when I'm _in heat_ ," he replies.

Gladio backs him up against the rock wall, one hand holding him there by the shoulder and the other sliding down past his waist, and Noctis can't help the way his body responds to it. "Let me take the edge off," he murmurs, squeezing Noctis's hip. "Okay?"

Gladio's thumb strokes over the point of Noctis's hip, and he draws a sharp breath through his teeth. "Are you offering what I think you're offering?"

"Yeah. Like I said, it's my job." Gladio looks him straight in the eye; Noctis looks away first, a flush heating his cheeks.

"Fuck," he says, then, "Okay." Gladio's hand moves from his hip to the front of his pants, and Noctis shudders as Gladio cups and squeezes him, rubbing gently before undoing his fly. He's already hard from the building heat, and his cock jumps when Gladio wraps a hand around it. There's something about the size of Gladio's hand, or the weight of his body pressing Noctis into the wall, or the alpha pheromones coming off of him -- whatever the reason, Noctis's brain shuts off entirely, giving himself over entirely into his shield's hands.

Gladio jerks him off in quick, efficient strokes, probably the way he does for himself when he's in a hurry. It feels good on such a deep level that Noctis quickly finds himself gasping for breath, his head pressing back against the rocks as he trembles under Gladio's touch. His hands come up to grip Gladio's arms, and he lets out a tiny cry when he comes, spilling over Gladio's hand and onto the rocks below them.

Gladio wipes his hand on his tank top, then strips it off and uses it to wipe Noctis up as well. "Didn't like that shirt anyway," he says as he pitches it off the cliff.

As he catches his breath, Noctis finds his mind _is_ clearer, and he feels a little better. "Hey . . . thanks," he says. Gladio only shrugs.

"Just doing my job."

***

"I want Ignis," Noctis said, for probably the twentieth time since his dad had left to go back to the Council chamber. He wiped his brow, already sweating again though he'd just come out of the shower. It was late, probably close to midnight; the past few hours since his collapse in the training room had been a blur of the heat fogging up his mind as he jerked himself off over and over. There was a little lull between each orgasm, and the last one had been enough for him to realize how sticky and gross he was getting and stumble into the bathroom to get cleaned up. Gladio had poked his head in when Noctis knocked over his toothbrush holder, but had backed off again when Noctis assured him he'd call if he needed help washing.

The fallen toothbrush stand gave him an idea though, and Noctis ended up spending half of his shower kneeling on the floor, head against the wall while he worked the back end of a toothbrush in his ass, brushing over a spot that made him see stars. Something about it was a little more satisfying than just jerking off, and after he'd cleaned up, dried off, and wrapped himself in his bathrobe, he'd felt well enough to shuffle out of his bedroom and see about something to eat. Now, he was curled in the corner of the sofa with a granola bar, whining to Gladio, who Noctis knew he should be grateful to for even being there with him.

Gladio sighed and handed him a bottle of water, keeping his distance. "Noct, Ignis can't know. You know that. Your dad said so when he was here."

"But _why_? Ignis is supposed to be my royal advisor. How's he supposed to advise me if he doesn't even know who I really am?"

"You're the same person you always were, and it doesn't fucking matter if you're an omega."

"It'll matter when I have to get married and produce an heir."

"Then we'll figure it out when it happens."

Noctis sighed, frowning at the now empty wrapper in his hands. "I want Ignis," he repeated.

"Sorry, Highness," Gladio said, taking the wrapper from him. "You're stuck with me."

Noctis shifted a little, pulling his legs up to loop his arms around them. He was starting to get that hazy, prickling feeling again that meant that pretty soon he'd need to get back into his bedroom, but he didn't want to give in to it yet. What he really wanted was the comfort of Ignis's hand on his brow, Ignis tucking blankets around him, Ignis's gentle and constant presence. Gladio was comforting in a different sort of way, but while as an alpha he had the pheromones to soothe the worst of Noctis's heat, it also made him a focus for his heat's desire. He couldn't help the way his eyes followed as Gladio walked to the kitchen to dispose of his trash, or the way his gaze kept wandering from Gladio's eyes to his shoulders, his waist, his hips.

It wasn't like he'd never noticed Gladio before -- he was an attractive man by anyone's standards. But he'd never thought about him so extensively, or spent so much time wondering what it would feel like to have Gladio's cock in his ass, as he had the last few hours. Now, with the heat picking back up again, he was stuck in a state where he wanted to stay in the living room with Gladio, but being this close to him was turning him on so much he could barely stand it.

"You feeling okay?" Gladio seemed like he had a permanent blush, though whether it was from embarrassment or something else he couldn't say. There was a little thrill of arousal at the thought that maybe his pheromones were affecting Gladio too.

Noctis cursed under his breath, realizing he'd been staring. "How much longer is this supposed to last?"

Gladio shrugged. "Been what, maybe five hours so far? You got at least another day."

"I don't know if I can do this," Noctis groaned, dropping his head into his hands. He jerked back up when he felt a strong hand descend on his shoulder.

"Hey. You got this." The touch burned, but it also soothed, and as he inhaled deeply Noctis relaxed just a bit. "Maybe try to get some sleep for a while, okay? I'll be here if you need anything." Noctis nodded his thanks and retreated to the bedroom, feeling Gladio's eyes on him the whole way.

***

Fighting both Titan and a ship's worth on Magitek troopers wouldn't have been an easy task on his best day, but in the middle of a heat, Noctis isn't sure how he even survives it. Gladio does his best to shield him from whatever he can, but Noctis still has to fight and has to win. Every movement of his body sends hot friction down his nerves straight to his cock, and he barely manages to keep his concentration and coordination. In another world, in another time, he wouldn't have been able to, but everyone's lives are at stake and he can't -- won't -- let them down.

Prompto and Ignis had both looked askance at the two of them when they'd reunited, and Ignis had asked if he was sick, but Noctis managed to brush them off with something about it being from the headaches. It still feels awful to lie to them, but now is not the time to reevaluate that decision. They fight, and they win, Titan's frozen arm crumbling to dust under Noctis's sword. There's a brief moment of victory, when they all think it might be over, but then Titan rears up again.

Noctis staggers as he's hit with a vision of Luna talking to the Archaean and forming the covenant. Then he's filled with a rising thrum of magic, swirling around him and entering his body, joining with the prickling heat until he feels full to bursting with it. The tension rises and the magic coalesces, drawing tighter and more intense until it snaps in a shower of sparks, taking his own release along with it, leaving him with the Mark of the Archaean and an uncomfortably wet spot in his shorts.

"Noct, are you alright?" Ignis asks, concerned, but Noctis can't quite draw breath to answer yet.

"He'll be fine," Gladio says, "if we can get out of here. Doesn't get much worse than this." Geysers of lava erupt around them, and Noctis doesn't even have time to be scared before an Imperial dropship is descending on them.

"The Empire! Now?!" Ignis says, as the drop ship opens its ramp, revealing none other than Ardyn himself -- who is, apparently, the Chancellor of Niflheim, as if they day couldn't get any worse.

Ardyn offers them safe passage, but all Noctis can think is, _when will this be over?_ "Dying here is not an option," Ignis says. "We have no choice, Noct."

"I know," he replies, because Ignis is right. They mount the ramp to the dropship, and Noctis feels Ardyn's eyes on him every step of the way. He shudders a little as they pass him and something inside of him recognizes Ardyn as an alpha. The nobility of Niflheim must also be subject to the alpha and omega variations, he thinks, then immediately it hits him that if he can tell Ardyn is an alpha, then Ardyn can probably tell that he's an omega, and even worse, that he's in heat.

"Well," Ardyn says, when they've all filed inside the ship and the door has closed, "I'm afraid the accommodations on this ship are not fit for a king. Still, there are some more comfortable chambers you may wish to spend the ride in. Will you join me in mine, Your Majesty? I'm sure I can . . . keep you entertained, for the duration." Ardyn's eyes never leave Noctis, and Noctis clenches his fists.

"He's not going anywhere with you," Gladio says, stepping in front of him. "Not without us."

"My, my, you certainly are possessive." Ardyn takes his eyes from Noctis to give Gladio a once-over, looking unimpressed, then turns back to Noctis. "I must say, I'm impressed you managed to fight off a god, especially in such a state."

"What are you talking about?" Prompto asks, and Noctis tries very, very hard not to let his cheeks flush.

"Oh! Do you not _know_?" The smile that grows on Ardyn's lips is not a kind one. "Keeping things from your dear friends, Your Majesty? Well, then, I'll let you have your little secret. But do know that my offer stands, in case you tire of the mountain of muscle protecting you. I'm sure I could make you much more comfortable."

"No thanks," Noctis says firmly, "I'll stay with my friends."

Ardyn sighs. "Very well, then. I shall take my leave, as I have other business to attend to. The MTs will inform you when we arrive."

Ardyn leaves, and Noctis's knees wobble alarmingly. He starts to fall, but Gladio is there, hauling him back up. Everywhere Gladio contacts him burns, and Noctis has to close his eyes for a moment to collect himself. "Let's get you sitting down," Gladio says, and Noctis allows himself to be led to a clear area of the cargo hold they're in and lowered to the floor.

"What's going on?" Prompto asks. "What secrets was he talking about? Are you okay, Noct?"

"I'll be fine," Noctis grits out between his teeth.

Ignis sits down beside him, worry plain on his face. "I admit I have my suspicions as to what the Chancellor meant, but rather than speculate, I'd like to hear it from you, if you're ready to tell us."

Noctis looks to Gladio, and Gladio nods. It's not like anyone gives a shit about something like this anymore, now that Insomnia is gone. Everyone who cared is probably dead. And if Ardyn knows, then Niflheim already knows. "I'm not an alpha," he says, gaze fixed on the floor. "I'm an omega."

He chances a glance at Ignis to see his reaction, but Ignis only nods. "As I suspected, then. And you're--"

"--in heat," Gladio finishes. "A fucking weird one brought on by the Archaean."

"I'm sorry for lying to you," Noctis says. "I wanted to tell you, but my dad wouldn't let me."

"Uh, guys? Anyone want to fill me on what that means? All I remember from school is that we kind of sort of talked about this in sex ed."

"It's a genetic variation more prevalent in the nobility," Ignis tells Prompto, and Noctis is grateful for Ignis's lecturing voice. It makes him feel a little bit more normal. "Alphas, like Gladio, tend to grow larger and stronger. Omegas are of smaller stature and more delicately featured. The largest difference from you and me is that their fertility is governed by the omega's heat cycle. Alphas and omegas can only conceive when the omega is in heat." He glances at Noctis briefly, then turns back to Prompto. "Historically, omegas were not allowed to ascend to the throne as they were considered to be too weak for leadership positions. I assume this is why His Majesty asked that it be kept a secret."

"Yeah," Noctis says. "Been taking heat suppressants for years. Told you they were vitamins." He frowns. "I wanted to tell you from the beginning, but Dad wouldn't let me."

"And yet Gladio was aware," Ignis says, an observation rather than a question. He doesn't _sound_ hurt, but Noctis can tell he's unhappy by the tone of voice.

Gladio shrugs apologetically. "I was there when he went into his first heat."

Ignis sighs. "I do have one question, if you wouldn't mind indulging me with an answer."

"Shoot."

"I was led to believe that during heat, omegas are completely incapacitated by . . . erm . . . sexual arousal."

" _Dude_ ," Prompto says, then cuts himself off as Noctis glares at him.

"Not dying is a pretty good motivator to keep your shit together," Gladio says. "But when we're somewhere safe we ought to let him hole up until it's over."

"Heat can have lulls, where it's not as bad," Noctis says, though he's certainly not going to say that he has to get off for there to be a lull. "Whatever Titan did at the end, there - giving me his blessing, I guess? Made it die down a little bit." He takes a breath, shifting his position a little. "It's starting to pick back up though." And it is -- Gladio's warmth beside him is awfully tempting, and Noctis is even catching himself starting to look at Ignis and Prompto with interest, though it's not quite the same since they're not alphas.

The door slides open and an MT clunks its way in to let them know that they're preparing for landing. Gladio helps Noctis to his feet, then nods at him and lets go.

***

It's a good thing that they keep their camping gear in the armiger because the Regalia is nowhere to be found. Noctis pulls out the map to look for the nearest haven, then hands it to Ignis when he finds his mind too muddled to make heads or tails of it. The walk to the haven is almost as bad as the fight with Titan, but in a very different way. Then, it was trying to push through the drag of his body to avoid getting killed. Now, it's trying to keep going while Prompto and Ignis keep shooting him curious glances every five seconds but pretending they're not doing anything out of the ordinary. Gladio, at least, isn't looking at him funny. He's not looking at him at all, really, but he's staying close, and when Noctis stumbles over loose rocks or brush Gladio's hand is there at his elbow before he can even think about it.

"Quit fucking staring," Gladio says, and Prompto yelps and turns away. "We can talk about it when it's over." Noctis is shamefully grateful that Gladio said it so he doesn't have to. He finds himself leaning into Gladio's touch, not pulling his arm away, which is probably what was making Prompto stare this time. He tries to make some space between himself and Gladio, but the throbbing between his legs is insistent, and the heat is clouding his mind. He doesn't need to hide anymore. They know the truth. Would it be so bad to give in to what his body is demanding? "Almost there, Princess," Gladio says, catching the look in Noctis's eyes. He doesn't let go of Noctis's arm.

"It should be just around the bend," Ignis says, and Noctis swallows and keeps moving. He can do this. Just a little farther.

By the time they reach the haven, Noctis has been in heat for nearly a full day. It's been hours since Titan, and he honestly thinks he might be going entirely out of his mind. As soon as Gladio lets go of his arm he collapses down to his knees, hands coming out to stop himself from falling to the ground entirely. "Noct!" Prompto shouts, running to help, but Gladio blocks him.

"Don't touch him," he says, a low rumble that makes Noctis shiver with pleasure. The idea that Gladio is protecting him, even from their friends -- the way Gladio sounds _possessive_ \-- it sends a wave of desire through him that's almost enough to make him lose his composure completely and beg Gladio to take care of him. To take care of this, the aching need that fills his mind and body. "He'll be fine. The sooner we can get the tent up the better."

Noctis stays like that, hands and knees on the hard rock of the haven, as the other three set up camp. It's a struggle second by second to keep his hands down and not touch himself. He's so hard, he wants to get off so badly, but he can't do it with everyone watching. He _shouldn't_ do it with everyone watching, anyway. So he stays still, breathing hard, eyes squeezed shut and fingers trying to dig into the rock below him, trying to hang on just a little longer.

He's so focused on his inner struggle that he doesn't even hear his name called, until large hands touch his sides and he jerks and lets out an embarrassing moan. "Come on," Gladio is saying, "let's get you inside," and he scoops Noctis into his arms like a child to bring him into the tent. Noctis turns his face into Gladio's chest, helplessly remembering being carried through the halls of the Citadel like this years earlier. Then, he'd been confused by what was happening, uncertain why he suddenly wanted Gladio so badly. Now, he's wondering whether he can talk Gladio into helping him like he did hours ago, and hating himself for even thinking of asking for such a thing.

"You're safe now," Gladio says, setting Noctis down on a sleeping bag with a towel stretched over the top. Noctis whimpers and grabs at Gladio's arms, one hand scrabbling upwards to his shoulder, then his neck.

"Gladio," he manages to say, but any more words he might have intended catch in his throat.

"I got you. You don't have to wait anymore, it's just me. I've seen it before, remember? You got nothing to be ashamed of." Noctis closes his eyes and lets go of him, face burning with shame despite Gladio's words. He fumbles for the fly of his pants, fingers an uncoordinated tangle. He can't manage to pop the button open and he thinks he might cry in frustration, but then there are larger, calmer hands over his own. "Need some help?" Gladio asks, and Noctis nods miserably.

Gladio gets Noctis's pants open and pulled down, along with his shorts, and Noctis closes his hand around his cock and barely gives it two strokes before he comes with a strangled cry, hot and wet, over his hands and his shirt.

"Fuck," Gladio says, from somewhere near Noctis's feet. Sitting up on his elbows, Noctis looks down to meet Gladio's gaze and finds the desire in Gladio's eyes matches his own. Pheromones, he thinks distantly. He lets his head fall back to the ground as Gladio finishes undressing him from the waist down. Sitting up just enough to take off his shirt, Noctis balls it up and hands it to Gladio to put with his other soiled clothes.

His cock is already hard again, only barely satisfied by his orgasm, though the haze in his head has somewhat abated. He's about to start jerking himself off again when Gladio says, "I could-- If you want . . . from what I've heard, if you actually have sex with an alpha, the pheromones make the heat end sooner." Noctis freezes with his hand halfway down his stomach and sits up fully to look at him. Gladio's blushing a little, but his gaze is direct as it always is.

"You would . . . do that for me?"

"Not like it'd be a hardship." Gladio raises his eyebrows, looking over Noctis hungrily. His cock twitches in response, making it clear that no matter what else, his body is definitely interested. "But no hard feelings if you don't want to."

"Of course I want to. But I don't want you to think you have to, because it's your job, or because my goddamned pheromones are making you want to." Noctis is a little proud of himself for managing to string together complex sentences, especially now that the idea that he might get fucked by Gladio is bouncing around in his head.

"How about 'cause you're my friend, and I want to help you, and also you're fucking gorgeous?"

Noctis laughs. To the point as always. "Then get your clothes off and fuck me already." He sounds more confident than he is, because the fact is that he's never actually done this before. He's had some experience with women, and he's played with toys on his own, but he's never had sex with a man. Gladio is poking his head out of the tent and saying something to Ignis and Prompto -- probably something to get them to go away for a while -- then he's back, sliding his pants down over muscular thighs, and Noctis finds himself salivating in expectation as he eyes Gladio's impressively large and impressively hard cock.

He's moving before he realizes it, crawling forward across the tent, getting his hands on Gladio's thighs and then gripping the base of his cock and putting it in his mouth. He surprises Gladio probably as much as he surprises himself. Having the heavy weight of Gladio's cock on his tongue feels good though, and so does the way his girth stretches Noctis's lips. He doesn't really know what he's doing, or how to do it well. He has at least some idea from the porn he's watched, and one time a girl went down on him, so he at least knows to watch his teeth.

"Shit, Noct, that's good," Gladio hisses as Noctis takes in as much as he can, wanting to be filled in every way possible. He tries sucking, tries licking, gets a rhythm going for a while as Gladio groans in pleasure, but before long the aching of his own cock becomes insistent and he reaches down with one hand to stroke himself. He pulls off with a wet pop when he's close, leaning his forehead against Gladio's thigh as he comes again, making a mess of the floor of the tent. At least someone had thought to keep Ignis and Prompto's sleeping bags outside.

Gladio pushes him gently down, guiding him back to the sleeping bag with the towel on it, then lowers himself down on top of him. Noctis isn't expecting it when Gladio leans in to kiss him, but he responds eagerly enough, finding that he doesn't really mind the scrape of Gladio's beard, especially not when it's moving down his neck with Gladio's tongue following along. Gladio's hand is sliding up his thigh at the same time, and Noctis hooks a leg over his hip. He tenses at the first touch of Gladio's hand on his ass, trembling at the brush of long fingers over his hole.

"Tell me you have lube somewhere," Noctis says, pushing back against Gladio's fingers. Gladio laughs and reaches across him to rummage in the corner of the tent, coming back with a small bottle.

"Didn't think I'd be using it for this, but good thing I'm always prepared."

"Less talking, more fucking." A slick finger presses into him and Noctis groans, relaxing into the touch. One finger becomes two, two become three, and by the time Gladio is lining up his cock Noctis is hard again and dripping onto his belly.

Gladio is big, bigger than the biggest toy Noctis has ever used. He's careful though, moving slowly to let Noctis adjust, holding him by the hip to keep a good angle. When he bottoms out Noctis feels full to the brim, deeply satisfied in a way he's never been before. He wonders if this is what it would feel like to have sex with a female alpha too, whether this is pheromones or this is something that's just _Gladio_. Then Gladio moves, and it gets even better.

Noctis comes two more times before Gladio does, dizzy with the heat as Gladio fucks him into the ground, then he comes again at the feeling of Gladio spilling deep inside him, shouting and grabbing at Gladio's shoulders. When it's over, Gladio kisses him again, and Noctis's head lolls to the side, barely awake. He's dimly aware of Gladio moving around the tent, wiping him down with the towel, putting a bottle of water to his lips, tucking him into the sleeping bag.

He wakes a few times during the night, finding Gladio in the dark and rubbing against him until Gladio pushes him down and takes him again. When he wakes up in the morning he's alone, but his mind is clear. Gladio must have been right about the pheromones -- his first heat had lasted nearly three days, but this one seems to be over already. He's sore and achy and sticky, and he grimaces as he realizes he doesn't have any clean clothes handy. Wrapping himself in a blanket, he staggers to his feet and exits the tent.

It's later in the day than he'd thought, and he squints at the midday sun. Ignis is cooking lunch, Prompto is fiddling with his camera, and Gladio is reading a book, and it's so fucking normal that for a minute Noctis can pretend that none of this ever happened. Then they all look over at him at the same time, and Gladio puts the book down and stands up.

"I'm fine," he says preemptively. "It's over." Ignis and Prompto look relieved, and Gladio sits back down. "Anyone want to tell me if there are some clean clothes around here?"

***

"The Astrals must have their reasons," Ignis says, frowning in thought. "The crystal chose you as you are, and Titan interfered with your suppressants. If you ask me, it sounds like they _want_ an omega as the chosen king."

"Kings are supposed to be alphas. Strong and powerful and . . . whatever. Like my dad."

"I dunno," Prompto says with a grin, "I think you're plenty powerful."

"Gotta be strong to beat down a god when you're in heat," Gladio adds.

Noctis smiles a little. "Guess you're right. Maybe being an omega isn't so bad after all."

"I gotta know though, dude," Prompto says, "do you _have_ to have sex during heat? Like will you die without it?"

Noctis gapes at him. "What the fuck, Prompto."

"What? What'd I say?"

"You realize most kids have their first heats when they're _thirteen_ right? Of course you don't _have_ to have sex."

". . . but, Gladio said-- And he and you--"

Noctis feels his face heating up and covers it with his hands. Gladio just laughs. Somewhere, in the distance, he's pretty sure the Astrals are laughing too.

**Author's Note:**

> A bazillion thanks as always to my beta readers and cheerleaders, [misswonderheart](http://misswonderheart.tumblr.com), [r3zuri](http://r3zuri.tumblr.com), and [introductory](http://archiveofourown.org/users/introductory)!


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